The house felt quieter lately. Even when Mia was around, it was like her presence had faded into the background. I didn’t notice it at first; I was too wrapped up in work, in the ever-present pressure of keeping the business afloat. But one night, as I sat in the living room after a long day, I realized something was off.
Mia wasn’t herself anymore. 
I couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started, but she had become more distant, like she was slipping away, little by little. Her laughter didn’t fill the rooms like it used to, and the teasing banter that had once seemed so effortless between us had been replaced with short, polite conversations. Even when we were together, there was this invisible wall between us. Something had changed, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I leaned back against the couch, staring blankly at the empty fireplace. Was this distance what I wanted? We’d entered into this marriage as a transaction—an agreement to help each other. I needed to secure the family business, and Mia needed to take care of her family. We both knew the rules. This was never supposed to be real.
But somehow, it felt real now.
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. The truth was, I missed her. I missed her warmth, her laughter, the way she could make even the worst days seem bearable. And yet, I didn’t know how to approach her. It was like we were drifting apart, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Maybe it was me. I’d never been good with emotions, always kept them locked up tight. That was why this arrangement had worked for me. No messy feelings to complicate things. Just a straightforward deal—one that would get me what I needed. But now, I couldn’t deny that things were getting complicated. 
I’d started noticing things about Mia—things I hadn’t paid attention to before. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her blog, the way she smiled when she was proud of something she’d written. I’d caught her in the middle of working on it a few times, her face focused and determined. She looked... happy. But I wasn’t a part of that happiness. 
I wondered what she wrote about. I hadn’t asked, mostly because I didn’t want to overstep. This was her space, something she’d built for herself. And yet, a part of me was curious—curious about what she shared with the world that she wasn’t sharing with me.
My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was an email from one of my business partners, asking for some documents. I groaned inwardly. Work never stopped, even at this hour. I typed a quick response and set the phone down. The house was quiet again, too quiet.
I stood and walked toward the kitchen, hoping that maybe I’d run into Mia. It was a foolish thought—she was probably in her room, writing, just like she had been every night for the past week. But as I reached the doorway, I stopped. She was there, sitting at the counter with her laptop open in front of her.
She didn’t notice me at first, her fingers moving across the keys quickly. There was a slight frown on her face, like she was deep in thought. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. This was new territory for me—trying to connect with someone on an emotional level. I had never been good at it. But with Mia, it felt... important.
“Mia,” I said softly, stepping into the kitchen.
She looked up, startled for a second before she smiled—though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey, Lucas,” she said, closing her laptop. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’ve been here for a while,” I admitted, leaning against the counter. “You’ve been busy with your blog lately.”
She nodded, glancing at the laptop. “Yeah, I’ve been focusing on it a lot. It’s been... a nice escape, I guess.”
“An escape from what?” I asked, trying to sound casual even though the question felt loaded.
Mia hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the counter. “Everything, I suppose. Life, the mansion... this.”
Her words stung more than I wanted to admit. Was this all just an escape for her? Our marriage had always been a business arrangement, but lately, I had started to think of her as more than just a partner in this deal. She had become someone I looked forward to seeing, someone I wanted to be around. But maybe I had been wrong to think that she felt the same way.
“What’s wrong with... this?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
She looked down at her hands. “Nothing’s wrong, Lucas. It’s just... complicated. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this arrangement. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that it’s not real.”
I swallowed hard. She wasn’t wrong. This wasn’t real—none of it was. And yet, it felt real. The way she had become a part of my life, the way I missed her when she wasn’t around, the way I had started thinking about her even when I was supposed to be focused on work. It was all real to me, even if it wasn’t supposed to be.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult,” I said quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”
Mia looked up at me, her eyes softening. “You haven’t, Lucas. It’s not you... it’s just everything. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself in all of this. Like I’m just playing a role, pretending to be something I’m not.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I had never thought about how this arrangement might be affecting her, how it might be making her feel trapped or lost. I had been so focused on my own needs, my own goals, that I hadn’t considered what this might be doing to her.
“You’re not just playing a role,” I said, my voice firmer now. “You’re more than that, Mia. You’ve brought life into this place—into my life.”
She blinked, surprised by my words. Hell, I was surprised by them too. I wasn’t used to talking like this, to being vulnerable. But with Mia, it felt like I needed to say it, like I owed her that much.
She smiled softly, but there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Thank you, Lucas. But I think I need to find my own way, too. I’ve been using the blog to do that—to remind myself of who I am outside of all of this.”
“I get that,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I completely did. I had always known who I was—Lucas Sterling, the businessman, the billionaire. I had never had to question my identity like Mia seemed to be doing. But I respected her for it, for trying to find herself even in the midst of this fake marriage.
“Maybe you could share your blog with me sometime,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I’d like to read what you’ve been working on.”
Mia’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I had overstepped. But then she smiled—a real smile this time, one that reached her eyes. “Maybe I will,” she said softly. “Someday.”
It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.